Wednesday, July 11, 2007

Today has mostly been moving white goods about and out of the house, since our chest freezer decided to stop working. I discovered this only when everything had thawed, unfortunately. A month's worth of food!

There was much swearing. Then, to add injury to insult, the arsing thing would refuse to stay open while I attempted to get things out of it, like some sort of deranged (but fortunately toothless) white-box-shaped, land-dwelling shark, trying to gum me to death with its lid. So dear reader, I kicked it. A few times. And called it some very rude words and kicked it some more.

Violence against domestic appliances is childish, and doesn't solve anything, (although it did actually start to hum and freeze again after I booted it a bit, so maybe it does solve things) but I felt a bit too John Cleesey in the aftermath.

It's the second time this had happened, but the previous time we had thought the power to the garage where it was kept at the time might have tripped. It seems, however, that this freezer is simply a temperamental bastard. It's going away, (damn its eyes) never to darken my doors again, via the pub which M now runs (which I did write a post about, but never pressed "publish") and which had a Comet-worthy cellar full of freezers. (This caused its new manager some discontent as he likes to think of pub cellars as being places full of beer rather than white goods). Thus, lo and behold, he is having someone take away these surplus-to-requirements fridges and freezers, and ours is going too (damn its eyes again). We swapped our temperamental bastard for a slightly bigger and hopefully better behaved one from there.